Blind Music
by Celena Winter
Summary: Harry is one of the many leaders that make the resistance against Voldemort. Draco is the perfect jewel that will decide the fate of their world. Drarry. AU. OOC.
1. Prologue

**Blind Music**

_It all happened so fast, there was calm then a rough halt. After that, it all just... it was... there was... it faded into nothing, nothing at all._

...

"Do you think that there should be more to life than, you know – death?" Hermione looked up, her dull brown eyes frowning in uncommon uncertainty.

Ron turned his face away from the door, his eyebrow rising cynically.

Harry grunted; placing his broom down carefully - as to not disturb the freshly polished handle - and picked up his sword, his hand poised to start polishing the blade.

"Er, Harry, are you listening to this chick?" The redhead pushed away the wall.

"Yeah, I heard her. Nothing new in her pondering,"

"You've heard this shit before?" Ron frowned.

"Yes, once or twice," he shrugged easily. "She speaks of it when she's extremely bored or when she remembers the one time down by South Brighton." He shrugged.

"When we killed Avery?" Ron asked, completely befuddled.

"No, the time when we were looking for Lestrange - the bastard, not the bitch – you know, when she got lost for most of that day." Harry looked up for the first time, cold eyes smirking.

"You never did say what happened to you on that little _adventure_." Ron rounded on the quiet girl, his tone accusing.

"There is nothing to tell, Weasley." Hermione sneered, her eyes shielded.

"Calm yourselves down, children. All this excitement can be bad for you." Harry laughed, putting his sword aside, polishing forgotten, and stood up.

"Where are you going?" Hermione rose to her feet as well, her stance instantly defensive.

"None of your business, Sugar Pie," He laughed once more, ignoring the unnerved looks that his two comrades shared before watching him walk out.

...

"Master, please, return to your chambers, your Father has made explicit orders that you were not to leave the sanctuary of your wing at any given time, during these hours." The servant-girl run along side the blond, not daring to touch him as he made his calculated way down the wide staircase.

"I just want to go for a walk in the gardens." Draco snapped lightly, not one to get angry easily.

"But the Lord has made it adamantly clear that you are not to leave your quarters." She pressed urgently, trying to keep from tripping down the stairs, in her anxiety, which only grew the closer they reached the lower floors.

"I want to go to the gardens." Draco said heatedly, reaching the last step and turning to his right, in the direction of the back doors.

"I want you to go back to your quarters." Lucius walked out of his study, having heard the pleadings of the servant-girl, as the two youngsters made their way down.

"But Father," Draco started, turning in the direction of his father's voice, his eyes focusing just past the blond aristocrat's head.

Lucius smiled sadly, looking at the exact copy of his own grey eyes that lacked that light of recognition. "I'm sorry, son, but tonight is not the best time for you to be out. Perhaps, when it is of better circumstances, you can visit the gardens for a longer period of time." He spoke lightly, his voice full of promise.

Draco wanted to argue, but he heard the edge to his father's voice. Not the edge of anger, but the one of worry and a slight mix of fear. "Very well, father. I shall hold you to that." The fey boy smiled, turning to face what he could almost presume was the direction of the stairs.

"Goodnight Draco." Lucius called out gently, watching as his heir was led in the right direction.

"Goodnight Father." Draco called back just a softly, letting his guide pull him back to his chambers.


	2. A Beautiful Sight

**Chapter One**

**A Beautiful Sight**

His father had taught him how to apparate; although the practise was somewhat of a moot point with his condition. Nonetheless, Lucius had been adamant that his son would need to learn to overcome all obstacles and it never hurt to learn something new.

So Draco learned how to apparate. He didn't have many places to go, for his father didn't like to let him outside the protection of the Manor even with the protection of his family and their many guards; but there were still places that he could go. One was his sanctuary, his own little world. He knew that his father was well aware that he took such excursions, he also knew that his father tried very hard to give him his privacy when he made the nightly trips to his hiding place; but his father worried and among tracking and protection charms, he also had elves and invisible bodyguards watching over the young blond.

Tonight was no exception, and as he made his way to the apparition point, he knew that he was being carefully tailed by those that protected him. He had stopped visiting his sanctuary for some time after two years of ritually escaping his dull nights; but his father had been strangely agitated and he had, somewhat, felt guilty for making his father worry all the more. So he had stopped visiting, but now things were, to some extent, better and he took visiting again, knowing that he's father would worry – slightly – less.

Closing his eyes - knowing that it didn't make a difference but feeling comfortable with the habit - he concentrated on his haven, the place that he had read about so much, knew so well, but had never seen with his own eyes. He trusted his books enough to have a clear picture of what St Paul's Cathedral looked like, and the many months of visiting the tower was familiar and comfortable.

The gentle wind wiping past him let him know that he had apparated and the quiet midnight commuting of the London muggles let him know that he was where he wanted to be. Very carefully, he walked to the end, where he knew the railing was and he let the wind play more forcefully with his hair. The air was filled with so many scents, so much life, even if it was mostly muggle... somehow the lack of magic present made the feeling all the more unrefined.

It had been so long since he had felt this... security. The security that only a secret sanctuary allowed. Yes, his father may know where he was, and he may have magical guardians of all sorts with him, but this was all his, his alone. No one would dare destroy this for him; his father would never allow it.

At home there was always the possibility of someone breaking his solitude even in his garden or his library - that was strictly forbidden for any to enter if not of blood or with voiced authorisation.

He fingered his bracelet charm distractedly as he thought back to his father's demeanour for the last few weeks. Lucius Malfoy was a man of power, propriety and most importantly, of strength. The fact that his father seemed _fearful_ told Draco that something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.

...

"Potter, get your butt back here this instant!" Pansy Parkinson shouted across the hall.

"Screw you, Parkinson! If you think that I'm going to stand around and see that kind of bullshit, you have some crazy shit coming!" Harry Potter shouted back, pushing past Hermione and Ginevra, as they walked through the front door.

"Potter!" Hermione called out in dismay at being pushed out of the way so brusquely.

"Shove it!" Harry snarled in answer, not once pausing in his departure.

"Harry Potter!" Ginevra admonished angrily.

"What?!" The brunet shouted, half way down the footpath.

"Come back here!" The redhead screamed, stepping forward menacingly.

"Whatever for?" He laughed mockingly, disappearing with a small crack once he reached the ward's boundaries.

Ginevra stepped forward again, intent on following the squadron leader but a snort from Hermione made her pause in her actions. "What's so funny?" She half growled in irritation, caught between feeding her curiosity and following Harry; although it was almost impossible to follow him, even if she had the power to do so.

"Nothing," the brunette shrugged offhandedly, making her way into the entrance hall.

"Granger," Ginevra's voice dropped into a dangerous whisper.

"She means that you're wasting your time, Goldilocks." Pansy pushed away from the wall, where she had taken her place when she followed her irritable leader, and followed Hermione to the kitchen.

"Was that Harry, dear?" Molly Weasley asked, the moment the three girls walked through the kitchen door, and cut off anything that her youngest child had to say.

"Yes, it was. He just stepped out." Pansy smirked, taking her place on the large dinning table.

"That boy really needs to control that vocabulary of his," the redhead Matron shook her head disapprovingly, before turning back to the sink.

"And his temper," Hermione agreed with a grin, her eyes meeting Pansy's in amusement.

...

He pulled at the charms bracelet again. His mother had given it to him when he was younger. She had started teaching him how to play the piano, and the black bracelet came with the one miniature piano piece - dangling from one of the many hooks. She said that the piece was engraved with many protection spells and the piano was charmed to grow at his will, that way he could practice his music whenever he wanted.

The small collection of charms had grown since then. His aunt Andromeda had taught him the violin and the flute, and the miniature pieces dangled from their respective hooks. Aunt Bellatrix has taught him the Cello and Saxophone, those too, were added to his bracelet and father had taught him oboe, clarinet and the viola. Now that he thought about it, he had too much damn time in his hands. His godfather had wanted him to learn the harp, like his mother had intended... well, the point was moot now, wasn't it. His mother wasn't there any more. Severus had insisted that Lucius should hire a tutor, but when Draco had adamantly pointed out that he refused to learn from anyone that was not family, Lucius was quick to support his heir in his decision. Suffice to say, the potions master was not happy.

To decide- He fingered the bracelet again - string, keyboard or woodwinds? Thinking of his father once more, he pulled off the Oboe charm and recited the spell that would make the instrument whole. Charles Camille Saint-Saëns had the perfect masterpiece when he created 'The Swan'; Draco mused taking two steps back, away from the stone banister and caressed his instrument gently. With thoughts of his worried father, Draco began to play the beautiful piece of music that the Malfoy Lord loved so much.

...

He apparated to the top of the historical building; he wasn't thinking and he wasn't entirely sure where he stood but he knew he was still in London. He could see Parliament from where he rested.

The brunet had come upon the location by mere chance; he hadn't put much thought about his destination when he had apparated and he was only glad that he hadn't splintered himself on the way.

Well, whatever the reason for coming upon the place, he still loved his newly discovered hide-away and refuge. One of the many perks of having found this new location – apart from the view – was that not one of his toadies or his keepers knew anything about it; another perk was that, so far, the place was exclusively his - at least he hadn't seen anyone else in the tower in the handful of times that he had visited the cathedral.

He rolled his shoulders, attempting to discharge the tension and exhaustion that he felt, letting his body relax but his senses heightened in sentinel. The years of training were hard to disregard when one stood in such a position of danger; such luxuries of a quiet nighst out were rare and far apart.

He perched on the low wall that posed as a barrier around the tower and let the wind ease him into a meditating trance.

He had reached a quiet point in his meditation - where all around him existed in a small corner of his mind, and a simple blankness overtook everything else - when he heard the small crack of apparition on the other side of the tower. Stiffing instantly, two thoughts entered his mind. The first, he had been found by Voldemort and the other, he had been found by Ginevra Weasley and at that precise moment in time, he didn't know which was worse.

He crouched lower, trying to keep as invisible as possible, thanking his habit of wearing black, as it blended well with the dark shadows. He didn't dare disillusion himself in case that his magic narrowed him down faster to whoever had decided to break into his personal place.

After a few minutes of complete silence he let his senses spread and poke at the area. Curiosity pulled him away from the ledge as he began to feel the other presence. To be honest, it was numerous auras, but he knew that if it wasn't for his level of raw magic and strength, he would have not felt all the numerous inconspicuous, protective beings that surrounded the one delicate presence.

There was one presence that Harry determined as the leader. When he made his audience known, said leader instantly sniffed him out and sized him up, nodding once in recognition and letting the other guardians know that he was a safe bet. All that and he hadn't even moved from his side of the tower.

Feeling the area out again, he knew that the guarded jewel had no idea that he or she was not alone... well, as alone as his or her guardians permitted. He let a few minutes run by before moving, taking his time to stalk around to the other side of the cathedral's tower.

The music reached his ears before his eyes met the ethereal creature that stood in such a dramatic contrast to the midnight darkness. Harry sucked in a silent breath and paused, unsure of what to do.

He was not sure what piece of music the oboe was playing, and he wasn't entire sure if the music sounded beautiful to his ears because it was an amazing piece or because of the musician playing. He didn't fancy himself an educated man in the worlds of art, but he knew beauty when he saw it, and the blond was unearthly perfect.

He wanted to approach him, but somehow that felt like a crime, so he sat and listened to the melody and he watched the young man and learned everything that he could take in.


	3. Strangers

Chapter Two

Strangers

His father's sudden decision to go on a two week holiday to one of Mother's family homes in the Americas had Draco Malfoy in a very distinctive bad mood. However, as he was, without recourse, stuck on another continent, he had no choice but to relive past moments of confused comfort as opposed to investigating the source of his newly found feelings.

Going back to the night - when he had played piece after artistic piece on his oboe - he had felt slightly different. Well, he himself hadn't felt different, but the air around him was different to the many times when he had visited before. He had felt a strength and support... an extra safety. It was nothing like the security precautions that his father had implemented on him, throughout so many means. No, it was a protection akin to when you're wrapped around an angel's wings with the knowledge that no matter what, that angel would never ever let anything happen to you. Nothing can ever touch you, hurt you or make you fall.

He had liked that feeling, and he wanted it again. Yet, here he was sitting heaven knows where in the South of California, listening to inane conversations of – ok, so he was not going to relate _that_ conversation, to anyone, any time soon.

...

Hermione Granger watched as her squadron leader wiped his dark-tinted glasses with the trim of his cloak before putting them back on his nose and covering fiery green eyes. He seemed distracted – not that anyone else would realise – and she wanted to find out what had caught Harry Potter's attention so firmly... and if she wasn't mistaken, the attention was happily given by the young leader.

Harry pushed away from the wall and surveyed the training room once more, his eyes falling on his Strategist captain for a few seconds longer than most. "Alright brats, we upping the level today and I want no slacking from--"

The group turned as one to the door as it opened slowly before revealing Ginny Weasley. "What is it Weasley?" Harry barked, angry that he was being interrupted.

"I was bored, thought it would be a good idea to practise with you...r group." The redhead smiled cheekily, winking at the dark-haired leader.

Harry seethed, green eyes clouding over in irritation. "Does it look like I have time to fucking baby-sit you?" He snarled moving forward.

Ginny blanched before opening her mouth to protest, "but--"

"But nothing, you impertinent child, get out before I have you relegated from your position and your squadron. This is not a game, is that understood?" His voice was so dangerously low that it caused his soldiers to shift uncomfortably, feeling as if they were petulant little children caught with their hands down the cookie jar and a trail of mud over the pristine white floors following in their foot prints.

"Ha--"

"You will address me as you should, private Weasley. Now do not make me repeat myself."

Brown eyes blazed in fear then anger. "I understand, _Captain_ Potter." She gritted out.

"Good. Now get out of my sight before I change my mind." He turned around; not waiting to see if the petit girl followed as instructed.

"Aww, is the wittle captain not in the mood to play with his little slut," Pansy Parkinson smirked, her voice an almost exact replica of Bellatrix Lestrange's mocking tones.

"Shove it Parkinson, unless you want to be scrubbing the stables without magic." The dark leader threatened in a deep but stead voice; his eyes sweeping across the room one more time as he took his place in front of his team, once again ready to start their training.

...

Draco pouted prettily, following his father's movements with his honed hearing sense, as the older man paced up and down in front of the large marble fireplace. "Daddy, can we go back to England, this is just ridiculous now. I do not want to put up with any more of this nonsense."

"Hush Draco, do not complain. It is very unbecoming of a Malfoy and a young gentleman." Lucius reprimanded gently, mechanically.

"Very well, but at the very least you could tell me what has you ever so bothered. Your constant pacing is agitating my nerves." The mini blond pouted more profoundly.

"It is nothing for you to be concerned about son, please do not worry yourself." Lucius said gently, subconsciously stopping all movement, his eyes landing on his heir in concern.

"Oh father, do stop. I'm absolutely fine, no need for you to stress." Draco scowled lightly, smiling gently to show his father that he was indeed in good health and calm spirits.

The aristocrat let his shoulders loosen slightly; the smile on his son's face letting most of his worries lie for the moment. He frowned anew as he took his son's fidgeting fingers. "Tell me, Draco, why are you so eager to return home?" He asked slowly, threading carefully with his intuitive son. "I would have thought that you would enjoy the change of milieu. Surely you do not miss the oppressive old Manor, do you?"

"Tis nothing important, I'm merely bored with this ambience. Never did quite like the weather." The young blond shrugged, his bored drawl shifting ever so slightly that if Lucius Malfoy didn't know his son as well as he did, he would never had realised that his son was hiding something.

"If that is all, then I suppose that we can shorten the trip by a few days. What would you say to returning to England next week, by midways?"

"Next week, but Daddy, that is by far too long a time." Draco whinged childishly, before bowing his head. "I meant to say father," he cleared his throat smoothly and controlling his attitude, "can we not leave soon, I grow bitter here and I am inclined to believe that I will not last to the weekend, let alone till midweek of next." He murmured diplomatically... with a slight pout.

Lucius smirked at Draco's outburst, now having confirmed that something had indeed caught his son's attention. However, now he feared that his son may be in danger and made a mental note to have a word with his son's security guards. "Do stop being so melodramatic son, but very well, we leave the day after tomorrow. I too, grow increasingly bored with the surroundings."


	4. Captive Audience

Chapter Three

Captive Audience

Harry was furious.

To be fair, that was an understatement.

He stormed through the house in silent but efficient movement. It was a common knowledge that the angrier Harry Potter was, the stealthier he became and everyone made their selves scarce in fear that they might encounter the aggressive beast that the Boy Wonder would become.

Molly Weasley had learned the hard way when it came to intervening with Harry's _me-time_, as Pansy Parkinson has fondly dubbed the moments of outmost anger. They were rare and far between, due to Harry's unnatural ability to keep calm and passive... but when those episodes did occur, they were just as impressive, impulsive and high-strung as everything else that the Chosen One did.

Now, the reason for Harry's _me-time_ having arrived closer that anticipated was unknown to all and sundry - that of course didn't stop them from fleeing at the sight of Harry marched through the hallways like a caged tiger.

Sirius, having just arrived at Headquarters, bumped into the enraged teenager as the two turned the corner that led to and from the kitchen.

"Wow Tiger, what's eating you?" Sirius Black backed off a few steps, grinning as he took in the sulking green eyes.

Harry snarled, pushing past the slightly shorter man and continued on his roaming.

"Uh ooh, is it that time of the year already?" Sirius followed after the young leader, ignoring what would have been common sense, to all others but him and his family (which included Harry).

"Ri, why is that every time I want time alone, everyone but you always seem to disappear...?"

"Are you asking me why everyone deserts you or why I don't?" The Black Heir asked, scratching the back of his head in mild uncertainty.

Harry rolled his eyes and continued on his stride, albeit a little more passively – but only a little.

"So what's the matter now, Pup?" Sirius asked again, a few minutes after the silence stretched and he figured that his godson was not going to divulge an answer to his earlier confusion.

Harry indulged the older soldier with a withering look at the use of his childhood pet name, but didn't verbally chastise the man. Another long silence continued and Sirius hated to have to break it but the decision was taken from him as his godson pivoted on his heels and with the wave of his hand the door, which they had just walked through, closed and locked. He was also pretty sure that a one way Silencing spell had been cast around the room.

"Whose brilliant idea was it to lock me up in headquarters?" The raven-haired youth snarled in question. "No one else is aware that I am restricted to this space, but I was instructed - via a missive-" 

clearly that was more of an insult than actually being under lockdown, "that I was not to leave this hovel!" He sniffed distantly.

"May I remind you that this _hovel_ happened to be my boyhood home and one of our best assets against Voldemort?" It was posed as a question but both new that it needn't be presented at all and Harry once more sniffed with indifference, now tapping his foot with impatience.

"Your defence for this dump is not going to make me forget what I have queried." Harry turned once more and made his way to the large bay window that overlooked the garden.

"Damn," Sirius breathed out, letting his head fall against his chest. "Alright, it was Dumbledore... your father has been captured, or so it is to be believed. No word has been sent to confirm either his capture or his murder from the Death Eaters, but Snape has confirmed that Voldemort has indeed been somewhat... upbeat." He cringed.

"_Upbeat_?" Harry lifted a sardonic eyebrow, his eyes falling on his godfather for a moment, the older man shrugging helplessly, before he snorted and looked out to the full moon.

"How's Remz?" He asked dully.

"With Snape for once, so tonight should go easier on him."

"Right," Harry whispered, an expression fleeting past his features for half a second.

Sirius was, nonetheless, jumping on him within that same second. "What was that look?"

"What look?" Harry turned, his eyes furrowing in slight confusion and irritation. Irritation for being questioned and for not fully understanding what the ex-Gryffindor implied.

"That- that... that _wistful_ look," Sirius pointed in superficial horror.

Harry rolled his eyes, waving his hand dismissively. "Now you're imagining things."

"Eurgh, if you were capable of emotion, you would be blushing right now!" Sirius glowered childishly before calming himself down.

"If you had half a brain cell, you would know that I am an inch away from hexing your balls off." Harry gritted through his teeth, now reminded of his previous resentment.

"You've met someone!" Sirius exclaimed, his finger once again pointed to the younger man in an accusatory motion, his eyes wide in shock and amazement. "That's why you've gone loony over the lockdown! You're scarier than a mother dragon caged away from her eggs." He whimpered under the heated glare before he gasped. "You were going to meet her!" He pointed his finger again.

"Will you ever grow up?" Harry snarled, not denying anything, a fact that wasn't missed by Sirius but the canine-like man reframed from angering the green-eyed man further, as he shuffled back, reprimanded.

...

Draco pouted anew.

He was bored.

He pulled out his piano from the charmed bracelet and chanted the restoring charm. The small piece floated away from his palm and glowed as the charm set. Draco felt the small breeze from the magic working and knew the instant that the piano was in its intact form. He reached out and met the cool curve of the wooden top, following it slowly to the front, savouring the moment.

He sat down and pulled that the top of the piano lid up to reveal the delicate black and white keys. He smiled gently as he felt the gentle presence of his father enter the room and keep watch. They had not done this in some time, and he knew that his father took great pleasure in watching him play his instruments. He always said that Draco had a way to bring the historical pieces of art into a new form of magical verve. It always made him smile; always made him feel just that little bit more especial, at least in his father's eyes.

He began to play the melodies, closing his eyes in spite of himself. He liked to get drunk in the notes and let go of all thoughts... not that his life was particularly exciting. Well, perhaps that in it self was reason to escape life once in a while, break the dull of habitual existence.

"I will be taking a short trip this evening. Please, do not leave before I return." Lucius spoke softly, breaking the lulling rhythm of the music and bringing the young blond down from his high.

"Very well, Father. Will you be alright?" Draco asked gently, pulling his fingers away from the musical keys, the piano now forgotten.

"I will be fine, son. You worry about yourself. You have been most anxious to return home. I do hope you find what you have been looking for." Lucius chuckled as Draco's face burst into colour.

"I will be careful." Draco nodded gently, acknowledging both his father's teasing and warning.

"Make sure that you do, I can not bear to loose you." The elder aristocrat whispered in departure, taking his leave without giving the teen time to say another word.

...

"I refuse to stay here another moment." Harry snarled.

"Harry, it is for your own protection. We do not know what the state of the Death Eaters is at the moment. You will just have to stay put for a little longer." Dumbledore argued vehemently.

"I refuse, I have been here long enough and I will not be hiding an instant further. I am a soldier and I will not stop living my life just because there are crazed psychopaths in this world." He snapped. "My father is also a soldier and he knows as well as I do what this war means. His capture is not your ticket to lock me up." The teen stood up and walked away from the fireplace.

"Who told you about your father?"

"Does it matter?" The soldier snapped. "Wait, you were keeping it from me! I had hoped that you were just slow in reaching that piece of information to me. I see. Well Dumbledore, I think we have nothing further to discuss." He turned on his heels and walked out of the study, ignoring the call of his name from the floo connection.

...

Lucius stepped out of the Apparition point and made his way swiftly to the front doors of the gothic styled house. The household belonged to one of his closest allies.

The door swung open before he reached the last step and for once the mistress of the house stood in the threshold, instead of a house-elf. Bellatrix smirked thinly as the tall blond came to stand a few steps away from the entrance of her home.

"Lucius, you look well." A small smile ghosted over her lips before the smirk resurfaced and enlarged. Lucius nodded, letting the younger woman continued. "I'm glad that you have come; how is my dear nephew?" She turned slightly, giving way and extending her hand in an elegant arc to bid welcome.

"Draco is doing fine, all things considered. We have only just returned from a short trip abroad. He was most relieved to be back on familiar grounds." Lucius related dutifully, following the dark-haired woman as she made quick work to their destination.

"A new fancy?" She queried in amused inquisitiveness.

The blond chuckled. "Yes I believe so, but I have yet to get a word out of him." He admitted fondly. "Your husband?" He asked respectfully.

"On the run again, Potter and Parkinson have been most vehement in their search for him. He didn't want to risk their finding our home." She waved her hand dismissively, finally reaching a heavy door.

"Ah, of course, Mr Potter," Lucius chuckled, amused.

"On that note, I do not believe you have met my current guest." Bellatrix pushed against the door, the dark wood glowed momentarily before creaking open.

"I do believe that was the reason for my visit." Lucius frowned in confusion.

"Indeed, but you will like this one." Bellatrix chuckled.

"James-"

Lucius forgot all thought as he came to face with the face of the Potter patriarch. Hazel eyes narrowed in recognition as they met deep blue.

"Malfoy," he spat.

The blond turned back to his hostess, ignoring the disgust on the other man's face and the anger laced in his voice when he spoke his name. "Does Potter know that he's here?" Lucius asked.

"Not as far as I know. I have not been in contact with Parkinson or Greengrass, but Nott has confirmed that Dumbledore has put him under lock." Bellatrix informed him promptly.

"He will not be there long; he detests being told what to do." Lucius mused quietly.

"What the hell is going on?" James Potter shouted, bringing two pairs of eyes on him.

"Temper James, it can't be good for you to get too excited." The aristocrat admonished offhandedly, obtaining a raised eyebrow from his sister-in-law and a narrowed look from James.

"You do not have the privilege to tell me what to do anymore, Malfoy." The brunet snarled furiously.

"I don't know what else you want from me Jamie, I have apologised in thousands of ways." Lucius pouted, making James shuffled uncomfortably and Bellatrix's eyebrows reached her hairline.

"You should have never joined Voldemort; you should have never married Narcissa!" The ex-Gryffindor argued.

"I know and I am sorry, so sorry, but you should not have started dating Evans." Lucius replied as swiftly as James was forceful; their argument had been fought many times before. "Besides, in spite of how much we would like to be unappreciative towards our late wives, they did give us beautiful sons." He smiled serenely.

"That they did," James conceded delicately. "That doesn't explain what is going on here." He pointed out, his voice suddenly tired.

Bellatrix took her cue and spoke. "It has been spread through the high ranks of the Dark Lord's army that a key member of the Order of the Phoenix has been captured. No one else is aware of this, and no one knows that it's _you_." She informed the two men, her eyes never leaving the darker of the two males. "The Dark Lord believes that it's a rumour with potential, but no one is coming forward to admit anything as of yet."

"I don't understand..." James trailed off, unsure of what to ask.

"Your capture was not planned. In short, my husband took a chance with no precautions. I Obliviated him and called on Lucius." Bellatrix chuckled, smirking at the shock on James' face.

"I don't think..."

"Your son is more efficient that the Order of the Phoenix gives him credit for... well, at the very least, that Dumbledore gives him credit for. Harry Potter has made alliances in places you wouldn't think off, he uses his connections well." Lucius stepped in, knowing that given the chance, Bellatrix would take the brunet in merry little chases through non-existent mazes.

"Harry--"

"Is the perfect Leader; no emotional attachments, knows exactly what needs to be done, seeks all possible avenues, strategies all angles, finds and obtains all potential supporters – all that and more."

"No emotional attachments, is that why he refuses to get close to Ginny in spite of all encouragement?" James asked in disbelief.

"No, fortunately for him, he does have a head on his head and refuses to let anyone tell him to do what he doesn't want to do." _Unlike his father_, was the bitter afterthought that ran through the blond's mind as he looked away from the captive, and James knew that the thought was there too as he looked away with a small blush.

"So am I your hostage or your guest?" James asked after a long pause.

"You are our unidentifiable guest." Lucius started carefully. "We need to ensure that your gracious leader has not revealed your disappearance, and therefore ensure that Voldemort remains ignorant to your capture. We also need to make contact with your son. Unfortunately for you, this is all happening with speculative ideas, and unpredictable times. It could be a while before you can leave again." He sounded resigned.

"I will be in this post for the remaining time?"

"That all depends, if all goes for us, you will only be here for some time. If it all goes against us..." The blond let the sentence trail, "well, we would like to keep the knowledge of your whereabouts to very few people, that, of course only includes us," Lucius indicated to Bellatrix and himself. "Harry will be informed, and he will inform selective members of his circle."

"Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley," James nodded in understanding.

"What on earth makes you think that?" Bellatrix asked, lifting a perfectly thin eyebrow in perplexity.

"They are Gryffindors, they are loyal to fault and they have been there for an indefinite amount of time." The brunet answered straight away, as though it was the most obvious fact.

"I believe the same is said for the remaining members of the squadron and other squadrons are not short of such members. If anything, I would have put my faith on the Ravenclaws and the Slytherins." Bellatrix shrugged curtly.

"Of course you would." James snorted.

"I have it in good authority that Harry agrees with my sister-in-law," Lucius smiled.

"I doubt it; you said he was a good leader." The brunet argued.

"Exactly," The blond and brunette ex-Slytherins smirked in triumph.

"The obvious answer would lead to Hermione and Ron," James pushed fervently.

"Granger, perhaps," Bellatrix conceded. "Weasley is merely in Potter's Squadron because no one else could control _that_ loose cannon as well as he does. Weasley is part of this war, at all, because of his family and his insufferable need to prove his worth as some sort of idol. He has yet to proud worthy of anything - much less something admirable." She gave the brunet another amused smirk.

"What would you know about being worthy or admirable?" James snarled.

"Obviously more than your so called _brave Gryffindors_," Bellatrix stepped forward in challenge.

"Now children, do behave." Lucius chuckled, much to the aggravation of his two companions.

"Have you nothing to say about this?" Bellatrix retorted.

"What can I say? Let the Gryffindor have his delusions." He smirked bitterly. "If he really believes that those two pesky Gryffindors are of value then let him believe so. I must admit, they must be of some sort of use... I do believe that the Weasley child is most amusing." Lucius chuckled coldly.

"Change of tune?" The female Death Eater, stood back, completely bewildered.

"Ah, if you want answers, I'm afraid you'll have to get them from our residential Saint. I have a conge to partake in." The aristocrat nodded his farewell and walked out before either rivals could think twice.


	5. Perfect Harmony

Chapter Four

Perfect Harmony

"Would you like to let me know what all that was about?" Bellatrix asked, her mock-baby voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Not particularly." James threw her a filthy look.

"Aww, come on Potter, don't be a party pooper!" Bellatrix whined theatrically, falling onto the dark armchair, closest to the door.

James looked at the second most Wanted person - after Voldemort - his eyebrows raised sceptically. "Are you really Bellatrix Lestrange?" He asked quietly.

"Well, what a silly question to ask and I shall not deign you with an answer. Now, stop stalling and tell me of this... romance with you and Lucius." Bellatrix waved her hand impatiently.

James sighed heavily, shaking his head remorsefully. "There was no romance between Lucius Malfoy and me. We fancied the pants of each other in Hogwarts, there was no one else for either one of us, and we knew that we liked each other but made no motions to do anything about such attraction...

"Consequently I started dating Lily Evans. It was just such a shock. One moment I'm ogling the Malfoy heir and the next everyone is telling me what a great chick Evans is and how much of a fool I would be to _not_ date her... so I did. Lucius was furious and when his father proposed the engagement between him and Narcissa, he jumped at it like a thirsty man would jump on water. Lucius is right, I was a fool and I have no mind of my own when it comes down to what really matters."

"You're such a Gryffindor," Bellatrix bemoaned in boredom.

"What?" James sat up, affronted.

"Only a self-sacrificing Gryffindor would admit to being wrong." Bellatrix laughed.

"It's the truth, I was--am an idiot. I submitted myself to what everyone else had to say and didn't think of how those decisions would affect those that really mattered, Lucius and me... Lily Evans was also affected, in an abstract sort of way." He mumbled bitterly.

"Yes, yes, because she loved you ever so much and you couldn't even have sex with her because when you closed your eyes all you ever saw were stormy blue eyes and lustrous blond hair. Predictable Gryffindor!" This time a cackle escaped the brunette and she stood up, walking towards the exit.

"As opposed to the emotionless Slytherin that doesn't care how they treat others as long as they get what they want." James retorted.

"Don't get sanctimonious on me, Potter! You were the one that fucked up. It was you who drove Lucius away, you who pretended to care for a woman who couldn't even live long enough to care for her baby child and it is you who continued to bow down to what ever everyone else wants from you, not thinking about the ones that _truly_ matter." With a bang, Bellatrix was gone and the door rattled a few seconds more - from the force of it slamming against the frame.

...

Lucius stepped through the wards and made his way to the private quarters of his only son. He stopped outside the door and paused. "Guardian," he called out gently. The air around him intensified for a second before disappearing completely and just like that a misty form appeared before the aristocrat. "My son has met someone, who was it?" He questioned steadily.

The voice was like echoes of tinkling glass and Lucius focused his eyes on the pale lips to follow the words of the Guardian. "A powerful being, eyes of jewel... he means no harm to the young one."

"Eyes of jewel... Rubies or Emeralds?" He asked.

"The greenest of Emeralds, he means no harm to the young one." The guardian repeated.

"Potter, Potter... what are you doing in the middle of the night, wandering the darks of London, finding precious gems?"

...

Draco stood up straight the moment he heard the door click open. "Father?" He called out gently.

"Yes, Draco," Lucius smiled, clapping his hands once, the room flooding with light in the next instant. "Are you ready?" He asked gently, reaching his son by the bay window.

"Yes father, are you sure I can go?" Draco bit into his lower lip, worrying it red.

"Can you not apparate?" Lucius asked.

"Of course I can, father." Draco sniffed indignantly.

"Then I do not see the problem." Lucius replied, his voice level but his lips pulling into a grin.

"I just don't want you to worry, that's all." Draco admitted shyly.

"I worry about myself; you go out and have a little fun."

"Just a _little _fun?" Draco laughed.

"Get out of here, brat!" Lucius laughed affectionately.

...

He was disappointed, but mostly, he was sad. He had hoped that the moment he stepped foot on the roof of the grand Cathedral, the magical aura that had accompanied him all those weeks earlier would instantly return. However, it was now an hour since he had arrived and he was running low on the music that he wanted to play on his beautiful piano.

The magic vibrated around him with each note that he played, he could feel all the many different guardians that surrounded him, all the many small and huge creatures that kept him safe... but none of these magical spirits were the one he wanted to get in touch with.

The one that he wanted, the one that he sought; that one that he needed was not part of his father's plan, it was not one more protection from the cruel world that his father wanted to keep him away from. The presence, the magic, the one that he asked for was... was...

Here.

He perked up, like a young kitten would at the slight hint of catnip. He could feel the fine tremble of power, the slight shift in the air that commanded all else to accommodate to its pleasure.

Draco smiled, perhaps now he could find out what it was... a spirit, a force, an angel... perhaps a new species that he hadn't met before. Father had introduced him to so many guardians that he just couldn't think what it could be. Would it be a sweet little Crup, or a devilish little Minx?

...

He trampled over the barriers that Albus Dumbledore had put to keep him inside, in the case that he decided to disobey the order to stay in the Headquarters.

The old coot, who did he think that he was? _He_ was a soldier, a warrior from the moment that he was able to hold a wand and speak out a hex. He was not a hopeless little Crup that needed to be protected. But of course, he wasn't being protected because he meant _anything_ to these foolish wizardry population, no, he was being protected because he was too precious a weapon to loose to some hapless _mistake_.

He was disgusted. To think that he had to fight and train those foolish little fanatics; they understood nothing that was not beyond their overgrown noses. Pity. His most valuable warriors were out there fighting the good fight whilst the sanctimonious little critters hid in _havens_, because their sorry little hides were too important for the world to live without.

They call themselves heroes, but they won't think twice to send a child out to a war. _It's ok to loose that one because he was not of their blood to begin with, because __they__ didn't see things how __they__ should._ It was hypocritical and pathetic. Still, Voldemort had to go. Just because neither side had good reasons to fight, didn't mean that he could let the psychopath kill innocent bystanders that didn't know what was happening.

If he was completely honest, if he had the ability to ignore God's will, he would have destroyed the world and got rid of all the pathetic creatures in it - Muggle and Magical alike. All they knew was how to destroy each other. What good did that do?

Harry blinked, _he_ was back.

He hadn't even noticed that he had apparated away from Kings Cross after he had walked away from the _noble_ house of Black. His anger had sizzled down some, but now that he could feel _him_, his anger was a thing of the past.

The Guardian moved forward once more, double checking that he was of no threat before nodding in greeting. "The young one believes you are an entity, not of human kind."

"Thanks," he smirked, hanging back a little and making his magic as inoffensive as possible.

The blond relaxed into his music and continued to play. It was obvious that the _presence_ was altering his impressions and attitude. In all, it took him seven minutes to realise something was wrong.

"Who's there?" His voice quivered, his fingers stilled and hovered over the pristine black and white keys of the baby Piano.

Silence met his question before the air shifted and folded around him to accommodate the new individual. "No one that you need to concern yourself about," Harry replied swiftly, his voice calm, no more than a husky ripple. "I didn't know that there was anyone else here." He supplied, lowering his voice some more, to keep from spooking the blond further.

"I cannot come very often, I am under watch." Draco admitted, biting his lip as he realised he spoke out of turn, hoping that the other male wouldn't notice.

Or maybe he would.

"Why would that be?" The husky voice moved closer to the pillar that stood behind the pianist.

"I'm blind. My father does not like leaving me unprotected." He mumbled, blushing ever so slightly as he bowed his head, blond bangs covering his eyes.

"Shouldn't you heed his advice?" Harry stopped, standing a few feet away.

"I feel like an expensive songbird in a gilded gold cage, that and when father does let me attend to guests, I tire from their hypocritical sympathy and money grabbing tendencies." Pale eyes fluttered, rosy lips pouting.

"Here I was thinking that the money grabbing whores were after your great looks, charming personality and irresistible body." Harry smirked, leaning his hip against the piano.

"Cute, but I cannot attest to my _'great looks'_, I am far from _'charming'_ and as for my body, there is something that I can and want to control... I would fail to see why I need to become _unhealthy_." Draco chuckled lightly.

"Hell," Harry laughed, "you have more charm than a cobra in a hot day. Why can you not attest to your beauty?" Green eyes furrowed in confusion.

Draco smiled gently, "I was not always blind - I was in a muggle vehicle accident. If I lost my sight, I cannot imagine what scars were left behind. I must look a pretty picture." He tried but failed to hide his sadness.

"An intoxicatingly, pretty picture, that is for certain. I cannot see any visible scarring." Harry whispered against the pale ear and Draco felt himself tense.

"I am not a fool; do not let my disability mislead you." Draco frowned, pulling away.

"I never mistook you for a fool, or anything of a kind. If I wanted to mess around then I would have taken my subordinate's sibling. She's pretty desperate for mine." Harry hissed in anger, his pride wounded.

"Then what is it that you desire?" The blond heir cocked an elegant eyebrow.

"I want to see if there is more to life than _death_."

"Is that all?" Draco frowned.

Harry nodded but spoke his answer shortly after. "I know that you have the answer." He smiled.

"How can I?" Draco asked, more confused than ever.

"I heard it in your fingers."

"My music," pale fingers brushed against each other but the only response from the stranger was the shift in the air and once again the Malfoy heir was left alone with his Guard.

In all, it took him twenty six minutes to realise that his guardian angel was a human... a powerful human, at that.

A powerful Wizard.


End file.
